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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23370037">49. Club</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicherwill/pseuds/wicherwill'>wicherwill</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>100 prompts [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cardcaptor Sakura</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Light Angst, but maybe the line continues, the archive continues to bear fruit, these don't really have a connection, years down the line</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:41:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23370037</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicherwill/pseuds/wicherwill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>he watches her dance from a distance and thinks of questions to ask</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eriol Hiiragizawa/Daidouji Tomoyo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>100 prompts [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680868</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>49. Club</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He didn’t want her to be here.</p><p><br/>It wasn’t an illogical thought, either, although after the amount of alcohol he’d had purple elephants would seem sensible.</p><p> </p><p>There were two possibilities for her appearance: one, this place wasn’t down-in-the-dumps-forget-your-life dreary, which would completely ruin the point of his being there for the past four hours.</p><p> </p><p>The second…</p><p> </p><p>Thesecondwouldbethatshewasn’tthewomanthathe’dleftbehind.</p><p> </p><p>She was dancing, freely expressing herself, moving in a way that made it so obvious why dance was an art.</p><p> </p><p>He watched her hair flying, almost in slow motion, a halo around her head. Her skin was slick, the sweat beading up and running down into crevices that he hadn’t seen (although he had remembered oh god he had remembered) in years.</p><p> </p><p>He knew, somewhere in his head, that he had a lecture tomorrow. He hated asking his assistants to teach for him, but he couldn’t pull himself away. It was mesmerizing, watching her.</p><p> </p><p>His first round of questions would be the obvious: when had she arrived in town? Was she back in school? How was everyone back home?</p><p> </p><p>He asked for another drink.</p><p> </p><p>The second round of questions would be a nlittle more prodding: Was she staying long? Had she started her company? Had she ended up working for her mother?</p><p> </p><p>He waited for half-an-hour before he ordered another, because he wasn’t stupid.</p><p> </p><p>The third round would veer into the personal. Where was she staying? Was she here with someone? Why had she left Tomoeda?</p><p> </p><p>Quickly downing another shot proved to be a bad idea, and he spent the next hour or so becoming acquainted with a porcelain toilet bowl. As soon as he felt well enough to stand, he ran back to the corner of the bar. Scanning the crowds, he exhaled and relaxed—she was still there.</p><p> </p><p>The bartender rolled his eyes before handing him a glass of water. Eriol pushed it back and frowned.</p><p> </p><p>The crowds had begun to thin out, and he knew that he had to make a move now.</p><p> </p><p>The fourth round of questions hit him then. Why had they split? Whose fault had it been? Could he make it right?</p><p> </p><p>As he finished his last drink and paid his bill, he knew that he could answer his last questions by himself.</p><p> </p><p>He glanced up at the doors, watching silently as she walked out, alone and undisturbed. His silence was all the response he needed.</p>
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